To help you decide, here are some excerpts just for you:
“Do come in. I prepared some tea. Aunt Tillie isn’t here at the moment.” April attempted to sound grown-up.
They followed her in to the modest house where a tray of gingerbread and tea waited.
“Where’s Aunt Tillie?” asked Dixon.
“To a friend’s, for a game of Bridge.”
“Bridge?” Dixon asked Simon, and Simon returned a blank stare. Aunt Tillie didn’t play bridge.
April passed the cups of tea, handing Simon his first.
“Here you are, my dear.”
Dixon bit his upper lip.
“Do you want a slice of Aunt Tillie’s gingerbread? I…I helped her make it.” April blushed, as she leaned in a little too close to Simon.
Simon threw himself back hard into the chair to get a proper distance from her, almost spilling his tea.
“Great.” Dixon grabbed a slice and sat back down.
Neither April nor Simon moved.
“Better take a piece. I think that’s the answer.” Dixon winked at Simon.
The Lone Hero:
It was late morning and he suffered from exhaustion, pain, and hunger when two more appeared. They hovered, observing the massive amount of their dead. The larger aged one descended to engage Einarr, the other rushed away.
“Now you suffer, nasty little vermin,” the dragoness said in a shrill-pitched hissing voice. “Where are your friends who assisted you in this atrocity?” The tan dragon’s eyes were cloudy, it had few teeth, and it tottered when it walked.
How old do these monsters get to be? “There’s just me, nastier teenier bug, but don’t worry, I’ll squish you quickly and you can join your friends.”
“No hut-dweller has such strength.” It hissed but Einarr already leaped aside. Angrily, it hissed again. Thorns shot rapidly but missed Einarr.
Einarr shook his head in disgust leaning against a tree. “Sluggish, aren’t you and what terrible aim. Over here, stupid. Are they worried they’ll lose more warriors so they sent you, the expendable one?”
Stepping Stones: Upon the Clouds
Come with me upon the clouds,
we’ll desert this world of crowds.
Balmy blown billowed beds,
full of fluffy, fleecy spreads.
Having fun in floating fog,
drifting, dreaming, plopped in bog.
On gelled expanse, feet thus bare,
to dance and prance beyond a care.
What a day I’ve planned for us,
without a rush, nor any fuss.
We’ll waft whilst on whiffled whites,
hovering in the highest heights.
On ballooned batting we’ll collapse,
piles of puffed air, not burlaps.
Next to God’s angels, me and you,
buoying, breezing thru skies blue.
Like a barge we’ll slowly soar.
We’ll skim on past Heaven’s shore.
Dallying forth on dewy dough,
in no hurry, to and fro.
Up to the clouds, follow me,
and glide and gambol gleefully.
When dusk descends down below,
that’s when we to home must go.
Before you can blink, to Dreamland you’ll go
Can you believe it? You’re sledding in snow.
The red sleigh is pulled by two jaunty reindeer
steered by Jimmy the Elf who’s full of good cheer.
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